AN: Look! Another chapter! Lol and you find out the kid's name. Yaaay! Also…there's some ideologically sensitive content in this chapter. You'll never see the act because I simply can't write that. I love my little Latino too much to do that.
Betelgeuse was bored. So bored, that if he was still alive…he'd be dead. Seeing as he was already dead, he was just really bored. Like the kind of bored where you just wanna take a pair of scissors and jab them repeatedly into your eyes because it will give you something to do. But for some reason, Betel couldn't find the scissors. So instead he searched his pockets for a cigarette. He couldn't find one. He found every goddamn thing else no problem, but the goddamn cancer stick was evading him.
"Son of a bitch," he said, shoulder deep in one of the pockets of his jacket. "If I was lookin' fer anythin' else, I'd find those damn things no problem." He huffed. That just wasn't gonna work. He'd have to go get some, then. At least that would give him something to do for a moment.
Betel was walking down the street when he felt the summons. The blonde scowled. He didn't want to mess with any breathers right now. He wanted a fucking smoke, dammit! But it wasn't as if he could just say "no, try again later". So his shoulders slumped as his body was jerked through the worlds. He didn't bother with theatrics. He was just gonna get it, get her done, and go away.
He wasn't sure why he expected someone who knew what they were doing. He knew he wasn't expecting some kid lying on a dirt floor.
The kid gave a startled gasp, rolling over and getting into a defensive crouch. Betel blinked, staring at the golden eyes surprisingly bright in the darkness. The kid stared right back, more than a little scared. He said something that Betel didn't understand.
"Kid, I don't understand."
The kid sat back on his heels, doing a wonderful impression of a frog. "American?" he asked, voice thick with an accent.
"Uh, British, actually."
"You don't sound like one."
"Because I haven't lived in England for so long. I've been around enough Americans, I've lost my accent." Betel grinned. "Bu' I can easily slip back in."
"Don't. It's harder for me to understand."
"Sure, thing, kid." They were silent for a moment before Betel decided to get this over with. "So what do ya want?"
"…what do you mean?"
"Ya summoned me. Why?"
Betel could tell the kid had no idea what he was talking about, but they heard a noise outside his room and the kid made a dive for his makeshift bed. Betel went invisible and stayed in the corner as an older man entered the room. Betel watched as he knelt next to the kid, putting his hand on the young Latino's shoulder. He was talking, and Betel had no idea what he was saying. But the meaning was clear enough. He was sorry for something, and the kid wasn't responding. The man trailed his hand down the kid's arm that wigged the ghost out. That was just not normal. He said a few more things, and the kid looked up at him over his shoulder. The moonlight hit his face and that was when Betel could see the dark bruising around his eye. The kid said something in response and finally the older man left. The kid's eyes flicked around the room for a moment, and Betel rematerialized so he could see him.
"Who was that?"
"Diego. My uncle."
"Where are yer parents?"
The kid said something that sounded like muerto. Then he said, "Gone."
"Hmm…and what's yer name?"
Betel grinned again. "'Allo, Reno. You can call me Betel. And I am gonna be yer personal protector. Yer not gonna have to worry about yer uncle anymore."
AN: Kick his ass, Betel. Oh, and there will not be slash. But there will be a bromance! xD